


four reactions steve got to his hickeys

by theappleppielifestyle



Category: The Avengers (2012)
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-06-03
Updated: 2013-06-03
Packaged: 2017-12-13 21:47:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,765
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/829234
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/theappleppielifestyle/pseuds/theappleppielifestyle
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Steve has a fun weekend, and his classmates react.</p>
            </blockquote>





	four reactions steve got to his hickeys

Steve is covered in them.

Nine dark, blood-flushed marks littered across his neck and chest, vivid and bruising and impossible to ignore. His highest-collared shirt manages to hide six of them, but there are still three of the most significant ones that stand out plainly.

He tries hunching. Slouching hard into his own shoulders, like that will somehow hide them sufficiently. He flips his collar up in a way that makes him grimace, but to no avail. With both hands, he scrubs violently at his neck until it’s rubbed raw and wonders if he can pass it off as a weird allergic reaction.

He stands shirtless in his room, brushing his fingers over each of the marks at a time, lingering over the darkest one set in the slot where his neck meets his shoulder. Tony had been particularly proud of that one, he remembers, and the red creeps to his cheeks as he thinks about the slow suction of Tony’s mouth at the base of his neck.

Finally, he looks at his shirtless reflection in the mirror and blows out a tired breath.

“Well,” he says. “Damn."

****  
  
  


**pepper potts:**

The house door bangs shut, which is completely un-Pepperish, enough to make Steve frown before Pepper bursts into his room, her arms bulging with the papers she couldn’t fit in her bag.

“Steve Rogers,” she pants, “if you used our emergency signal to get me to come over here because Tony started sexting you again and you don’t know how to reply, I swear to God-”

“Sorry, I just-” Steve shrugs helplessly. “I didn’t think Natasha would appreciate it if I called her, and anyone else would just laugh at me.”

Pepper stops. Her hair hangs in haphazard strands from her ponytail. “Why would they laugh at you? What happened?”

“Um,” Steve says, and he’s blushing again, he knows he is, he can feel it through his cheeks. He strips his dressing gown off- his shirt is on; he grew a good four inches during the growth spurt and bulked up enough that people stare somedays, but he wouldn’t be comfortable with Pepper seeing... that much of him.

The dressing gown drapes over the end of his bed, and Steve stands there with a hangdog expression and three considerably large hickies visible.

Pepper stares. “What are those?”

“Hickies,” Steve mumbles.

“From?”

“Tony,” Steve says. Who else?

Pepper’s face immediately contorts into an expression that puts Steve on edge: half amused, half exasperated, all parts smug. “Oh,” she says, her lips curling up disturbingly. “Huh. That’s.”

Steve shifts uncomfortably, itching for the dressing gown. Maybe he could just wear it for the next week and hope no-one would notice. “Can you fix it? With makeup or- or something? Is there a cream I can use?”

“Sweetheart,” Pepper says. “Sweetie, no, there is no  _cream_. There are, however, scarves.”

Steve makes a face. “Scarves?”

“Scarves,” Pepper nods.

“Can’t I just,” Steve says, and his hands gesture vaguely around his neck. “Can I borrow some foundation?”

“Sure. But that won’t cover them completely, it’ll just take the bite out of them.” Her mouth ticks, and Steve says, “Oh, ha,  _ha_.”

“Sorry,” Pepper says, sounding not sorry at all. She comes forwards, tilts his head back by his chin and inspects the damage. “God, Tony really went overboard, he usually just gives them one which can be easily covered- oh my god, there’s some on your  _chest_ -”

Steve jerks away, letting his shirt slap back up where Pepper had pulled it down slightly, voice hitching. “Yeah, we got carried away, can I borrow a scarf? And foundation?”

“Sure, duh,” Pepper says. Her hands pat on his chest. “You can’t show up at school like this, sweetie, you look like a two-bit whore.”

“Thanks,” Steve says sourly. He’s not going to stop blushing for the entire week, good Lord.

Pepper beams. “No problem. Now come here, I’m going to show you how to get your concealer to blend into your skin tone.”

****  
  
  


**sarah rogers:**

In his defense  his mother was never supposed to find out. Steve thought he could have gotten by via holding his dressing gown tight around his throat and darting back into his room as often as he could.

Unfortunately, he didn’t take into account that she would ask why when he asked her just before he left if he could use her scarf.

“Nothing,” Steve says. “I mean, no reason, I lost a bet with Clint, I have to get to the bus now-”

“Oh my  _god_ ,” his mother blurts, and Steve freezes as she grabs his face, maneuvering it left and right and upwards. “What did you  _do_ , those love bites are  _enormous_ , did you make out with a  _leech_ -”

“I didn’t make out with a leech, mom,” Steve chokes, trying to pry out of her grasp.

“Who’s the girl? Do I know her?” Her eyes get wide. “Did you go all the way? Steve, I know I only had the talk with you last year, but I trust you to be sensible-”

“We- we didn’t  _go all the way_ _,_ ” Steve splutters, successfully ducking out of the way of her grabbing hands. “We just made out.”

“Who?”

“Hmm?” Steve says desperately, like if he pretended not to hear her she’d forget all about it and send him off to school with a kiss and a five dollar bill for lunch.

“Who was the girl?”

Steve squirms. His neck is caked with makeup, and Pepper said he’d have to wash it all off if he decided on a scarf. “Tony,” he says, rushed. “Mom, I really have to get going, I’ll be late.”

She doesn’t even have the decency to look shocked. “Use protection.”

“We’re not-”

She pins him with a glare that the CIA probably use to get information out of terrorists.

“We will,” Steve promises, and flees.

 

 

**clint barton:**  

Clint doesn’t stop laughing until a teacher comes out and physically forces him to class, because Clint is an asshole who likes to take Steve by surprise by yanking scarves off his neck.

“Why the hell are you wearing that,” Clint starts, dragging it off of Steve as he walks past, and then stopping and staring, too surprised to do anything but let Steve snatch the scarf back out of his hand and loop it back around his neck, flushing furiously.

“That’s- really rude,” Steve hisses, looking around to see if anyone else noticed. Pepper did, obviously, but she’s already seen the worst of it. Apart from that, Mr. Fury is now looking at him with an uncomfortable amount of judging.

Darcy Lewis sniggers as she passes him. “Fun weekend, Rogers?”

“Shut up,” Steve says stupidly, and that’s enough to trigger Clint into laughing so hard he falls sideways into the lockers.

Steve leaves him there and heads to class, because Clint is an asshole.

 

****  
  
  


**tony stark:**

Steve is alight with nerves the whole ten minutes that Tony doesn’t show up to Bio.

He pretends he’s not, but by the third time Bruce has stopped him from tapping his pen against his folder and the fourth time Natasha has glared at him for jiggling the table with his leg, Steve is prepared to admit he might be a little nervous.

“Calm down,” Bruce says out of the corner of his mouth, close enough to his paper that Coulson doesn’t catch his lips moving. “What, you think he’s going to snub you?”

“I don’t know,” Steve says honestly. “We don’t exactly do- that- often. I mean, he  _does_ , just- not with me.”

When he looks up, Bruce is looking at him with a face that borders on pitying. “Trust me,” Bruce says. “It makes all the difference that it’s with you, Steve."

Steve doesn’t really know how to take that, so he nods and slumps down further against the workbook he’s supposed to be writing in.

Tony saunters in a few minutes later, chin held high and smirk a permanent fixture, and Steve only just manages not to either gape or start laughing even worse than Clint had. His pen stills in his hand, his leg freezes under the table.

Tony flashes a grin at Coulson, hands pocketed and his neck completely wrecked with hickies, and Steve knows that if he pressed his mouth over the marks they’d fit perfectly.

“Sit down, Stark,” Coulson says, not even raising an eyebrow. Then again, he’s seen worse out of the notorious Tony Stark, including but not limited to setting articles of clothing and possibly some furniture on fire, passing exams even though he sleeps through most of his classes, and on one occasion showing up to Biology class stinking drunk and slurring at everyone.

Tony flicks him a salute. “Sir, yes,  _sir_.”

“Don’t test me, Stark. I’ve had a bad day.”

“I’ll be a little angel, promise,” Tony sing-songs, batting his eyelashes to add to the affect, and Steve smothers a laugh with his hand.

Tony’s grin turns softer when he sees him. “Move,” he tells Bruce, not looking at him, and Bruce rolls his eyes up at him before shifting his seat over obediently. Tony drags a seat into the space where Bruce was and then slides into it.

He’s silent for half a minute before leaning over and saying it right into Steve’s ear, his breath ghosting over Steve’s neck and making him shiver: “Nice scarf.”

“Nice neck,” Steve replies, voice low, unable to keep the smile off his face or out of his voice. “Good weekend?”

“Very good weekend,” Tony purrs. “Great. Spectacular, even. And yours?”

Steve shrugs. “Well, it was okay, I guess.”

“Just okay?” A shoe starts traveling up Steve’s pants leg, a long steady press. “You sure?”

Steve’s mouth is dry. He licks his lips automatically, and watches Tony’s eyes darken. He works hard on stopping his words from getting hazy. God, this is in no way appropriate when Coulson’s voice is ringing over them about cell walls. “Pepper says you’re usually more careful than this. I look like a deleted scene from Twilight.”

Tony shrugs. “Guess I forget myself around you. Sorry.”

“Don’t be.”

“Okay.” Tony’s smile is blazing. He leans back in his chair, but his foot continues to stroke tiny lines into Steve’s pants, moving up, up, up. “Wanna go fool around in the empty locker room?”

“Tony, we have  _class_.”

“We have a free period after lunch."

Steve pauses. “Sure.”

“Okay,” Tony says again, and Steve feels his hand slip over the edge of his scarf where the darkest hickey is.

His fingers press, feather-light, underneath the fabric.

**Author's Note:**

> So over the weekend I got, as my darling mother calls them, 'love bites.' This fic is partially based off of the reactions of various family members and friends. The conversation with Sarah Rogers is almost word for word what my mother said.
> 
> Find me here at my [tumblr.](http://theappleppielifestyle.tumblr.com)


End file.
